Shorter chapter, but it felt like a good place to stop. Anyone willing to beta for me? If nothing else, I could use someone to talk ideas with.

Chapter 3

Scott woke to the sound of his mother's door closing and lay still as he listened to her have breakfast and leave for work. He didn't actually feel the need to move—it was Saturday, not a game day, and Derek's arm was wrapped securely around his torso. That aside, Derek's chest actually made a remarkably comfortable pillow.

It should be awkward, waking up in naked in bed with a guy he'd always had a pretty much respect-antagonize relationship with. It wasn't. Somehow, it felt… safe.

That had to be the apparently finalized mate-bond talking.

Scott considered, turned his head just enough to see the clock, and settled more firmly against Derek's side. The other Alpha needed the rest and he was pretty sure disentangling himself would wake Derek and, frankly, he'd really rather his mate woke naturally after the three-day stint without sleep.

And, okay, the whole 'mate' thing was starting to feel strangely natural.

Scott deliberately set those thoughts aside, closed his eyes, and dozed.

xxxx

The next time he woke all the way, it was because Derek half-sat before letting himself drop back against the mattress with an apologetic grunt.

"Hey," Scott greeted, sitting.

Derek sat up properly, the sheets pooling around their waists. "Good… morning?"

Scott glanced at the clock, "Something like that."

"I haven't slept past ten in years," Derek stared at the digital clock and it's annoyingly red '11:04' readout.

"Yeah, well, Mom left about four hours ago, but I figured you needed the sleep."

"I probably did," Derek admitted, shifting his shoulders back and stretching.

"One question, though," Scott glanced at something he'd noticed on Derek's right shoulder, then his own. "What's up with the, uh, scarring?"

Derek frowned and leaned closer, eyes flaring red briefly as he eyed the mark on Scott. A distinct crescent-shape, like a scar from the bite that had gone deep enough to blur teeth-marks into a single line. Only scars didn't usually look quite so… bright. "My only guess is that it's a physical manifestation of the bond we now share."

"Yeah, but what's up with the moonstone look?"

Derek shrugged, catching the glint on his own right shoulder out of the corner of his eye, and rolling the shoulder in question thoughtfully. The mark didn't pull like a scar would, didn't sting or burn like a bite that deep from an Alpha should have after less than a day. "Remember about the 'supernatural bonding elements' that go along with the scent markers?"

"Yeah, okay. So, not something that you knew about, but something that isn't actually too alarming. Got it."

Derek shook his head with a fondly exasperated snort as Scott slid out from underneath the covers and made his way over to his bathroom, "I am totally claiming first shower," Scott informed over his shoulder.

"I can't believe I slept through your mom getting up."

Scott left the bathroom door cracked for the sake of conversation as he started the shower, "I'm used to it, so I didn't exactly tense up or anything. You were pretty out, but you probably would have woken up if I'd moved."

Derek tilted his head in silent acknowledgement, then realized Scott was out of line-of-sight. "True enough. I don't suppose you have any clothes that'll fit me? The only ones I brought are a little covered in animal blood."

Scott snorted, "Derek, have you seen the size difference between us? Shirts, maybe, but pants?"

"Good point," Derek sighed. "Bloody jeans it is."

"Actually," a pause while the shower was presenting the only real noise, "If you don't mind wearing too-short sweatpants for a couple hours, I could throw a load in the washer."

"That… is an excellent idea."

Scott didn't reply and the sudden splat of water from the shower indicated he was rinsing his hair. Five minutes later, the younger Alpha made his way back out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist and hair just dry enough to not be actively dripping. "There's a couple extra towels in the cupboard in there. I'll see if I can find a pair of sweats that'll work before I start the laundry."

Derek nodded and rolled to his feet, oddly unselfconscious about his nakedness as he made his way over to the bathroom for his own shower.

A little over two hours later, both of them were feeling ready to hazard a Pack-meet.

"Should I ask Stiles for a ride?"

Derek considered the question, "Probably," he admitted. "I'd feel better if I tested my reaction to the Pack first. They, at least, can defend themselves and we've already established Stiles under 'attack and mate gets angry'."

Scott choked back a laugh. "Okay, then. Good to know."

Derek huffed and stalked over to pull Scott's phone from its charger. "Just call."

xxxx

Derek went inside the warehouse at the abandoned train depot first, testing just how far he was currently willing to stray from his mate and quickly catching his Pack's attention.

Isaac was the first to comment, "You smell different."

Erica and Boyd both immediately checked the air.

"He's right," Erica agreed over Boyd's careful nod. "I mean, you still smell like you, but there's something new."

Isaac pinpointed it—being on the lacrosse team and often in close proximity to said team's co-captains. "You smell like Scott."

Derek rolled his eyes, about to comment but abruptly sidetracked by Scott and Stiles making their way in, Stiles keeping up a running litany on what had happened while Scott had been recovering.

He found himself moving into Scott's space without a thought, glaring at Stiles but refraining from growling due to the glare he got from Scott in return.

"Dude, Derek, we've been over this. It's Stiles."

Derek huffed a half-growl and stepped back, "I know. I know. I'm sorry, all right? This is going to take some getting used to."

"Hey, look on the bright side," Stiles piped in, "He didn't try to kill me this time."

"You're not really helping my case, here, Stiles," Derek grumbled, doing an automatic once-over of his mate with his senses.

Scott was fine. Probably in better physical condition than Derek, considering he was a lot less high-strung at the moment.

Stiles stared, apparently having guessed at the meaning of the searching look coupled with a deep breath through his nose. "Okay, Scott so totally nailed it when he said you were acting like a paranoid guard dog crossed with his mom."

Derek's glare this time was his normal reaction to Stiles talking.

Isaac waved his hand from ten feet away as Derek moved to stand at Scott's shoulder. "I get that something's different since whatever happened to Scott, but why are you looking at us like that, Derek?"

Derek closed his eyes with a low growl, shaking his head.

"Reactive," Scott informed. "Use your senses. What do you think is going on here?"

Erica was the first to respond, "I… honestly don't know. You and Derek smell like each other—but you have spent the last four days in close proximity. He doesn't smell jealous."

"Possessive, maybe?" Isaac offered.

"Excessively paranoid, even for him?" Stiles tossed out.

Scott cuffed Stiles gently on the back of the head. "It's not his fault."

"They're right, though," Derek cut in, "This is my Pack. If I can't make myself trust them with you, how do you plan on getting through a lacrosse game?"

"Derek, I can totally kick your ass," Scott reminded.

Raised eyebrows from the other three werewolves went ignored.

Derek tilted his head, actually considering the statement. "You know, that might not be a bad idea."

"Wait, what?" Stiles blinked at the Alpha.

Scott, on the other hand, caught on. "You're thinking that if I can convince your instincts that I can protect myself, you might be able to reign them in more easily?"

"Pretty much," Derek agreed. "You are an Alpha now."

Collective pause from the Pack.

"Since when?" Isaac asked.

"About four days ago," Derek kept his eyes on Scott and gestured for the others to move back. "It might be best if you all got in the train."

"All out or Beta-form?"

Derek pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside, kicking his shoes after it. "All out."

Scott yanked his own tee over his head and kicked his shoes aside, "You know, we really need to find Peter, even if just to get him to teach us the 'shift back with actual clothes' thing that he usually did."

Derek snorted and grew.

xxxx

Stiles was the only one watching through the train's windows who didn't stumble back as Derek turned into, well… a stereotypical werewolf, quickly followed by Scott.

The two circled each other slowly for a moment, then vanished in blurring black.

"What the hell?" Boyd demanded.

"Didn't we tell you? Most of the male Alphas from Derek's family could do that—and Scott was bitten by Peter when he looked like that." Stiles managed to sound blithely unconcerned.

"How are they so fast?" Isaac and Erica scanned the mostly-empty warehouse, unable to keep up with blurring motion.

"Yeah, I really don't question the wolfiness," Stiles informed.

It wasn't until a minute later that quick clashes became something that could actually be seen. The smaller werewolf slammed the larger onto his back, pinning him to the ground with a demanding growl.

The larger tipped his head back, baring his throat in an obvious gesture of defeat and, when the smaller backed off, the larger rolled to his 'feet' and licked the smaller in the face.

In seconds, the smaller werewolf was Scott again, jeans distinctly tattered around the cuffs, wiping his face with his arm. "Dude, Derek, gross. Werewolf slobber."

Derek returned to his human shape looking somewhere between smug and distinctly more relaxed than he had been five minutes before. "Would you prefer if I kissed you?" he teased, lips quirking slightly.

Scott glared, "Actually, yes."

Stiles huffed and raised his voice, "Come on, you two!"

Derek looked at Stiles for a long moment, smirked, and caught Scott by the wrist, tugging him forward into a very deliberately deep kiss.

Boyd and Erica were shocked to genuine speechlessness.

Isaac shook his head a bit, wide-eyed, "Did not see that coming."

Scott shoved Derek back a pace and took a steadying breath, "Really, Derek?"

Derek shrugged unrepentantly.

"No, I'm annoyed with you," Scott informed. "I have freaking werewolf slobber in my eyes."

Derek went from 'unrepentantly smug' to 'kicked puppy' in point three seconds flat.

"Aaaand he doesn't care that Derek just gave him a gay porn-scene kiss with an audience," Stiles announced as he climbed off the train, the three Betas trailing after in stunned silence.

Scott blinked at his friend for a moment, then shrugged, which got Derek to settle on less of a 'kicked puppy' look and more of a 'slightly disgruntled' one.

Stiles paused, eyes drawn to a glimmer of reflected light off Scott's shoulder from the shrug. "Dude, do that again."

Scott hesitated, "What?"

"Shrug," Stiles waved his hand as though to indicate it should be obvious.

"Oh, you mean these?" Scott tilted his right shoulder forward, giving a clearer look at a shiny crescent line seemingly imbedded in his skin.

"Yes, that—what do you mean, 'these'? That doesn't look like a plural."

Derek huffed and tilted his own right shoulder down and forward, showing a similar shining crescent.

"Okay… that's not normal."

Scott snorted, "Since when is anything in the supernatural world 'normal'?"

"He's got a point," Isaac offered, the first of the Betas to get his voice back.

"Okay, whatever," Stiles windmilled his arms briefly, causing Isaac to step back out of range, "That doesn't answer the question. What are those?"

Derek huffed and stepped over to gather shirts and shoes, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing Scott his tee. "It's a marking that basically announces to anyone who knows what it is that we're bonded mates."

Erica got her voice back at that, "Since when? You two don't even like each other," she paused, then amended that statement. "Or you didn't, anyway."

"Four days ago," Scott replied, yanking on his own shirt. "Random and very rare Alpha thing. Choice apparently isn't really involved."

"Yeah," Derek finished tying his shoes, "It's based solely on pheromones and physical contact at first. Once it starts, there's no real way around it. I smelled him and went into rut—it took days before I was capable of controlling myself well enough not to kill every living thing that came close."

"Is that why you had us staying away?"

Derek nodded, glancing at Boyd.

"But… we're your Pack," Isaac titled his head, obviously confused.

"I wouldn't have recognized you," Derek stated, voice flat. "Everything—everything—only registered as 'threat'. I wouldn't have realized who you were until after you were dead."

"What about Scott?" Stiles prompted, more for the sake of Derek's Pack than himself. He'd gotten the explanation—mostly.

"I was mostly just unconscious," Scott admitted. "Despite the whole 'True Alpha' thing, male bodies aren't meant to go into heat—even the werewolf version. It really didn't help Derek with the control issues that I legitimately couldn't defend myself."

Erica's lips twitched, "You went into heat?"

Scott sent her a dirty look, but nodded.

"Literally," Derek growled, eyes flashing crimson, "He had a fever that could have killed him, werewolf or not. It's not supposed to work that way—he was unconscious for three days."

Scott moved over to rub his shoulder against Derek's, "Relax. I'm fine, now."

The older Alpha huffed, but some of his rediscovered tension eased. "I'm just glad it's a one-time-only thing," he admitted.

"You know what? I can actually agree with that," Stiles looked at Derek for a moment. "Huh. Are we actually starting to think things in common?"

"I sincerely hope the effect is limited," Derek deadpanned.

Scott wasn't the only one to snort at that comment, though he was the one to break the moment afterward. "So. As long as this is the whole 'reaction test' day, should we head out and see if we can walk the whole way down Main without you growling at anyone?"

Under other circumstances, that would have been funny. As it was, Derek grimaced. "I guess I should just be glad I'm not being actively hunted by the police anymore. I don't think I could handle 'armed and hostile'."

Scott nodded, "Then let's hope we don't run into any Argents."

Stiles groaned, "You know what? This could turn out really badly."

He drove them anyway.

xxxx

It didn't. Turn out badly, that is. By the end of Scott and Derek's trek through one of the not-quite-as-busy streets in town, Derek was visibly annoyed but not homicidal. Scott figured that was about normal for Derek and Stiles met them at the corner.

His first words upon climbing into the back of the Jeep were: "I hate being noticed."

Stiles blinked at the not-greeting. "Well, I hate to break it to you, Derek, but you might want to get some plastic surgery for that or something. You're not exactly not-noticeable."

Scott muffled a snicker, clambering into the vehicle beside his mate as Derek glared.

"I wonder why that is?"

"Oh, come on, they dropped all charges and nobody in California has that long of a memory for fugitives."

Scott's snickering escaped him, "Stiles has a point, Derek. Most of the people staring at you smelled… interested."

Derek swatted Scott, admittedly more gently than he would have hit anyone else to point that out, "If you hadn't noticed, I wasn't the only one getting looked at."

Somehow that didn't make him jealous. Probably because Scott was distinctly not interested back at any of them. Well, except the one girl with the purple-and-green hair and tattoos over every visible inch of skin, but that had been more of a 'whoa, what the hell?' kind of interest. Derek was sure Scott had smelled the ink in her skin just as much as he had, acrid and dusty.

"And you still didn't get all growly?" Stiles grinned into the rearview, "Go Derek!"

Derek bared mostly human teeth at Stiles, growling pointedly.

Scott snickered while Stiles grumbled about taking jokes. Somehow, this might just manage to work out.